


The Garden

by Piper_Emerald



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Evan is gay, M/M, TW: Suicide, TW: mentions of bullying and homophobia, Tree Bros, and can be sarcastic if he wants to, ghost au...kinda?, yeah a wrote another kinda ghost au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 19:29:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13620165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piper_Emerald/pseuds/Piper_Emerald
Summary: Connor didn't expect to open his eyes after the bathroom blurred from his vision. He didn't expect to wake up stuck in a garden he'd been to once before. And he really didn't expect a boy he barely knew to convince him that maybe he'd made the wrong decision after all.





	The Garden

Connor wasn’t happy.

That didn’t mean it was the way his mother chose to see it. She talked about how she couldn’t remember the last time he laughed, how she couldn’t see her little boy in his eyes. She acted like he’d morphed into something else and didn’t want to come back.

That wasn’t how it felt for him. Connor could remember being the kid who watched stupid cartoons and would steal his sisters pens so she’d have to stop doing her homework and talk to him to get them back. He didn’t decide he wanted to be a monster, or a nuisance, or any of the labels he now wore. For a longer than his mother acknowledged, he had been trying.

But then there was a point when he couldn’t carry the act of the good brother or the cheerful son. After that it seemed the only thing left was to be the waste of space.

He couldn’t feel joy. That’s how simple the problem was. Good things just didn’t last in him, and he couldn’t force an emotion when even the air in his lungs wanted to strangle him. It was too much.

It had been too much for a while, but he’d told himself that if he could hang onto something he could find a way to get better. For a while he really held onto his mother. For a while his insides would twist with guilt when she pursed her lips and silently accepted that she couldn’t get through to the kid who used to be her world.

When her hurt turned to blame, his guilt distorted into anger. She never tried to see that this wasn’t his fucking fault. She never even considered than maybe there was something wrong with his head. Maybe he wasn’t as perfect as his sister.

Zoe had been a reason to live for a little bit too. He could hold on to memories of them building pillow forts and pretending they were super heroes. He liked to live in the past, but his own actions coiled around the perfect images and crushed him back to reality.

He didn’t think Zoe was scared of him. She couldn’t really be, because she’d always been stronger and smarter. She just hated his outbursts. She hated listening to him screaming at their parents, and him blasting music as loud as he could to drown out the sounds of his own mind. She hated that he was the reason they weren’t still the bright shiny family they used to be.

Eventually he needed to face the truth. Nowadays all he did was hurt her.

Connor had never been able to live for his father. They were too different, and there was only so much damage that a fragile bond could mend. Connor disappointed him. Forcing a smile couldn’t change that.

At first Connor fantasied over a second chance. He wished he could have a do-over with a different head and different emotions. Eventually he gave up on that dream. All he craved was a way out.

He wanted an end to gritting his teeth through dinner and not understanding why his family laughing bore into his skin. He wanted an end to dragging himself out of bed knowing that nothing he did that day was going to make a fucking difference. He wanted an end to being the monster, the freak, the weak one who couldn’t get the voices in his head to shut up long enough to breathe.

He wanted joy to stop taunting him.

It was a Tuesday when he did it. Zoe was always in and out of the house during weekends, and he couldn’t chance it being her that found him. Either of his parents could survive that, but she was different. Her skin was softer. That used to be something they shared.

The knife was his father’s. It was for display, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t sharp. There had never been a reason to lock up weapons. A pocket knife seemed more tasteful than snatching something from the kitchen.

Connor stood in the shower with his clothes on. Part of him wanted to be talked out of it. But no one was going to come, and no words could fix the perfect life he’d let rot.

It wasn’t as fast as he’d wanted it to be. His wrists stung and the water around him kept getting colder. He wanted it to be like falling asleep, but instead he was just falling. He was falling out of his body into— into he didn’t know what.

It felt like darkness, but instead of drifting into an empty nothingness his mind wasn’t giving way. He was still there even as he stopped feeling the water and couldn’t see the blaring white tile walls.

Opening his eyes was a surprise. Only, they couldn't be his eyes because he knew his body was gone. He’d felt himself leave it, and whatever was holding him now was not the vessel he’d spent seventeen years in.

But when he opened what couldn’t be his eyes, he was still wearing what couldn’t be his clothes, and bore thick red lines on what couldn’t be his arms.

He was lying on grass. There was an annoyingly blue sky above him, and several overly green trees framing over bight flowers to his left. For a second he wanted to think that this was heaven. The only problem was Connor doubted he’d done anything worthy of landing himself there, and a small voice in the back of his head whispered that he knew this place.

It was a community garden. He hadn’t been here in years, but once his school had dragged him on a field trip to help with some of the planting. At the time, he’d suspected the hidden agenda of the activity was to remind the kid’s parents that the place existed. It wasn’t very popular. Connor didn’t know how it hadn’t been shut down by now.

Not that any of that mattered. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

Mindlessly, his feet took him to the exit. He didn’t know where he’d go from here, but the answers to whatever this existence was weren’t going to be found in some garden he’d only actually visited once. He tried to walk though the gates.

His body stopped moved and inch ahead of the threshold. That didn’t make sense.

* * *

A week later Connor had given up trying to leave the garden. Occasionally people would visit to look at the dying flowers or sit under the overgrown trees. He’d tried to get their attention a few times, but they never seemed able to see or hear him.

It was almost funny. He’d hated life enough to seek escape, and now he was stuck in the only thing that could be worse. The garden wasn’t nothing, but it wasn’t something either. It was an uncomfortable mix of useless consciousness.

If this was his version of purgatory, maybe he could cope with being stuck here until the plants died and the land was inevitably built on. However, something inside him was certain that there was more to death then watching flowers whiter. He wasn’t going to figure that out by sleeping under trees and hoping for the answer to hit him.

His frustrated musing were right about one thing. Nothing was going to just hit him. However, nearly tripping over him when he was attempting to doze off was apparently fair game.

“I’m sorry,” the kid’s foot had nearly collided with Connor’s face stammered.

At first Connor just stared at him trying to keep his balance. He seemed to take this as his cue to get lost, but the second he turned his back Connor sprung to his feet.

“You can see me?” He blurted, grabbing hold of the boy’s arm.

He knew this kid. They went to the same high school. Connor was fairly certain—no, he was positive this boy was in the same grade as him. His name was Evan. Connor had witnessed him being pushed around a few times. He was kind of a loser.

“Um, yes?” The boy quickly pulled his arm out of Connor’s grip. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Connor was freaking him out. He was trying to run.

“Wait, no,” Connor was shouting. That probably wasn’t helping. “You know who I am!”

“I—” Evan’s eyes lingered on Connor’s face. Connor could see a flicker of recollection. It should have been more than that.

“Oh, come on,” Connor could feel aggravation growing inside of him. “They would have fucking said something in school. I’m Connor. I died a week ago.”

“I really need to go,” Evan took a step back.

“I pushed you once, remember?” Connor only vaguely did, but he was certain it had been this kid that he’d irritatedly shoved in his attempt to exit a classroom.

“A lot of people push me,” Evan stated. “I’m sorry, I really need to go.”

“No, wait,” Connor took a step forward, but Evan was already darting toward the gates. “Stop!”

He watched the only person who could hear him run away.

* * *

Connor never liked being alone with this thoughts. Maybe this was hell. He’d believe that hell was just him being stuck with every flaw he’d held while alive and no way to drown out his awareness to them.

In a cruel form or irony, he misses the fucked up ways he’d cut himself breaks. He misses the small decent moments he used to have with his mother and sister.

This was just proof that he wasn’t okay enough to be alive in the first place. He couldn’t even sit under a tree without wanting to tear his own hair out and scream at everyone who couldn’t hear him.

* * *

Three days later someone sat next to him on one of the garden’s dingy benches. It was rare but not uncommon for the people who couldn’t see Connor to come near him. He was about to move when the person cleared their throat. Connor tore his gaze away from his own shoes to see the boy who’d tripped over him.

“Hey,” Evan said tentatively.

“What are you doing here?” Connor asked point blank.

“You’re dead,” Evan stated.

“That is correct,” Connor felt his eyes narrow.

“I’m sorry,” Evan sounded like he really didn’t know how to say this. Connor supposed he could cut the kid some slack for that one. This wasn’t exactly a normal situation.

“You know how I died,” Connor assumed.

“Yeah,” Evan nodded. "Um, why are you here?”

“I don’t know,” Connor said honestly. He wished he did.

“Oh,” Evan mumbled.

“I’ve been stuck here since I ended it.” In any other situation Connor wouldn’t be telling this kid anything, but he needed to talk to someone. He needed someone real to hear him for just a second.

“In the garden?” Evan gave him a confused look.

“Yeah.”

“That’s weird,” he blurted. Judging by the look on his face, he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Connor didn’t.

“Tell me about it.” He shook his head, almost smiling.

* * *

Evan came back the next day. Connor wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t complaining. He was sure that they made an odd pair: the dead kid and the boy that no one else in their school gave the time of day. Connor never desired anyone’s company simply because they were there before. But he was trying to hold onto whatever was left of his sanity. He wasn’t in the position to judge himself.

“I’m not crazy, am I?”

“If you were that would make me a hallucination and probably the last person you should ask,” Connor told Evan dryly.

“Right.” Evan said, thoughtful look passing over his face.

“Why are you here, kid?” Connor asked.

“I don’t know,” Evan sounded honest. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Not really.” Connor used to detest conversation. Now he was practically asking for it.

“Okay,” Evan nodded. “I know your sister.”

“Everyone does,” Connor brushed off.

It wasn’t an exaggeration. Zoe had a way of making friends easily, and even the people she didn’t connect with seemed to like her. She was nicer than Connor knew how to be, and far more charismatic. He didn’t really get it.

“Yeah, I just,” Evan’s eyes were on his hands. “I think she misses you.”

“Right,” Connor couldn’t stop himself from scoffing. He didn’t want to talk about this, especially not to someone who had no idea what the real situation was.

“She does,” Evan stated dumbly.

“They’ll get over it,” Connor had no reason to gloss over this. “Her, my parents, everyone. Give them a little bit.”

“That’s not how death works,” Evan said softly.

“And you would know?” Connor asked a little too harshly.

“Yeah, I would.” Evan’s eyes were harder than his tone. Connor didn’t want to know what was behind that gaze. People were messy— _he_ was messy. That was why it had always felt better to stay away.

“Okay,” he broke the eye contact, letting his gaze fall on a rose bush not to far from them.

Two of the roses were dead, but one of them was thriving. It looked almost as if the flower had drained the life from those surrounding it in order to bloom. The deep red petals reminded him of blood. It reminded him of his blood.

“I’m not going to ask what that means,” he said to Evan. “Just understand that there are reasons why I’m not trudging through that stupid excuse for a school everyday anymore. My family will figure that out, they’ll cry about it, then they’re let go.”

“That’s sad.”

“I was always a lost cause.” Connor would wither like the dead roses, while his family found a way to live through it.

Evan stayed for what felt like an hour. He didn’t bring up Connor’s family again, instead commenting on the trees and flowers. Connor let him talk. He just wanted to hear someone else’s voice. He didn’t mind that Evan clearly didn’t have anything interesting to say.

“You could come back tomorrow.” Connor stated when Evan realized he really needed to get home.

“Is that okay?” Evan gave him an odd look.

“I just told you it is,” Connor said dryly.

“Right,” Evan’s hand rubbed the back of his neck. Connor wondered if he did this when he was nervous. “Okay, I will.”

Connor watched him go. The trees and flowers were a lot less interesting when he was stuck alone with them.

* * *

Evan wasn’t alone the next time. At first Connor wasn’t paying attention to the entrance. He was used to people filtering through, and expected the kid to try to get his attention when he got there.

“Why am I here?”

The sound of Zoe’s voice snapped him into focus. Connor stood from where he’d been attempting to fade out of consciousness. Zoe had her hands on her hips. Evan was looking at him expectantly.

“You can’t see him?” Evan’s eyes flickered to Zoe.

“What the fuck?” Connor felt himself moving forward but didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He wasn’t going to hit this boy. Partly because he wasn’t sure it would work, but also because Evan suddenly flying backward would probably only prove whatever point he was trying to make to Zoe.

“What are you talking about?” Zoe didn’t look angry. She had never been very good at projecting that emotion. She did seem annoyed.

“Your brother,” Evan was looking at Connor with pleading eyes. Connor was reconsidering his decision not to hit him.

“I’m going home,” Zoe shook her head. “This was a mistake—”

“Wait, please!” Evan shouted before she could move toward the gates. “I know, it sounds crazy, but I—”

He winced, finally turning his attention away from Connor. This wasn’t about him.

“I thought I saw him here yesterday,” he stammered. “And I just thought that if you had anything to say…”

“This isn’t funny,” Zoe’s voice held a warning.

“It’s not supposed to be,” he pressed.

“I’m serious,” her eyes were narrowed. She wasn’t an idiot, even if this kid wasn’t a liar. “Drop the joke.”

“My father died,” Evan blurted. “A few years ago. We weren’t on good terms. If there was any chance that I could say something to him, I’d take it.”

For a second Zoe didn’t say anything. Connor watched her soften. He hated that. He hated how susceptible she was to vulnerability as long as it wasn’t from her fucked up brother.

“You’re really weird.” She shook her head, but didn’t move to leave the garden. “And that was kinda cliché.”

“I know,” Evan’s hand rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll go, you can just—yeah.”

He glanced at the glare Connor pinned on him once before darting away. Zoe waited for him to leave before letting herself fall against the tree Connor had spent the day before slouched under. If he was whimsical, he’d wonder if she could feel that he was there.

But he wasn’t whimsical, and he didn’t want her to know.

“This is stupid,” she muttered under her breath, but didn’t stand up. “Okay, um, hi Connor?”

Her head fell into her hands.

“Who the fuck am I kidding,” she breathed out.

Connor sat next to her. He wondered how long it had been since they’d let each other this close. It didn’t feel right.

“I miss you,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I knew you were hurting and I didn’t do anything. I should have. You’re my brother. I was supposed to be there for you but you made it so hard and—”

Her voice stopped. There were tears in her eyes. Connor watched her try to regain composure. She didn’t think about how there wasn’t any point if she looked like a mess right now. No one was here, and if she actually believed he could see her he didn’t know why she’d care what he witnessed.

“Mom’s not taking it well,” Zoe started again. Her voice still wasn’t steady. “She keeps talking about all the things we should have done. Dad gets mad. I don’t think he’s mad at you, more at himself, and maybe at mom a little bit. I just—I want you to know none of us blame you.”

He didn’t want to hear that. That meant that they blamed themselves and each other. As easy as it would be to wish that, it wasn’t what he wanted.

“It’s my fault,” Zoe whispered. “I’m sorry.”

She was wrong. She was always wrong, and for once he couldn’t shout that at her.

When she stood up to leave he wanted to stop her. He wanted to say something, even though he had no idea how to start the apology. Not that it mattered. She couldn’t hear him anyway.

* * *

Connor wasn’t surprised when Evan showed up alone the next day.

“Why did you do that?” He demanded the second the boy walked through the gates.

He saw Evan’s eyes widen, and in the back of his mind registered that he was shouting. Good. He deserved to be angry right now, and only Evan could hear him anyway.

“I just thought,” Evan stammered, taking a step back.

“Thought what?” Connor questioned. “That it’d be fun to make me feel like shit for leaving her?”

“No,” he shook his head. “That’s not—”

“Do you get off on fucking with people?” Connor shouted at him. “Is that why you don’t have any friends?”

“I wanted you to realize people care about you!” Evan sputtered. “You were talking like you thought you were nothing and no one gives a damn that you’re gone.”

Connor didn’t want Evan to know that those words hit him. He didn’t want to recognize it himself. He didn’t need these feelings, he’d chosen to leave to put an end to them. Most of all he didn’t want charity from his high school’s token looser.

“I need you to go,” Connor said.

“I’m sorry,” Evan whispered.

“I get it, kid, just,” Connor closed his eyes. He wanted to be numb, but he didn’t know how to anymore. "Please leave.”

When he opened his eyes Evan was gone.

* * *

Connor wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Zoe walked into the garden again. She looked a little brighter this time, but her shoulders were still sagging and he could see the lines around her eyes. She sat under the same tree.

Connor hadn’t wasted time there since her first visit. It almost annoyed him that even in death she still got claim over the little he’d been allotted, but he didn’t have the energy to be upset with the girl who’d he’d watched cry because of him.

“Hi, Connor,” she murmured. Her voice wasn’t confident. She didn’t fully believe he was there. “I don’t know if you can hear me. I guess you can’t give me a sign, but…”

She was looking at her hands. He didn’t understand why she was here. They didn’t talk when he was alive. Death didn’t create a connection, if anything it should have severed one. She needed to catch him up on what he’d turned his back on.

“We’re going to Grandma’s this weekend,” she started. He could hear her trying to push light into her voice. “Which of course means I have to drag that ugly dress out of the back of my closet and pretend I don’t have opinions on anything. It’s gonna suck. I wish—”

She took a breath.

“Remember when we used to steal candy from her pantry when Mom and Dad weren’t looking?” She asked the air. “That was fun. Well, it wasn’t when we got caught. I shouldn’t have let you take the blame. I know you were just trying to be a man, or something like that but it was my idea. I should have stood up for you.”

He watched the pained look soften.

“You know, at first I thought this was a sick joke,” her voice was louder now. "But, you can hear me, can’t you?”

He couldn’t give her a sign—he wasn’t even sure he wanted to—but it didn’t matter. She didn’t need one.

* * *

Connor wasn’t all that surprised when Evan came back. He was surprised to see a dark purple bruise covering his left eye. Judging from how disgruntled the kid looked, this was probably the first place Evan thought of to hide.

“I, um, I didn’t think you’d still be here,” Evan sputtered when he saw Connor. “I can—”

“You can stay,” Connor told him. “I guess I kinda owe you an apology.”

“You don’t,” Evan mumbled. He didn’t sit down. Instead he hovered awkwardly as if he expected Connor to change his mind yell at him to get out any second now.

“Zoe keeps coming back here,” Connor stated.

“Oh,” Evan’s hand rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s a good thing,” Connor cut Evan off. “She thinks I can hear her. I mean I can, but—I don’t know, it’s weird.”

“Yeah,” Evan hesitantly sat down next to him.

“But it’s nice,” Connor admitted. “She’s telling me shit I didn’t think she would. I guess this is closure.”

“Then why are you still here?” Evan asked.

“I don’t know,” Connor wasn’t sure he ever would.

“I heard once that ghosts don’t come back to haunt people, they just have unfinished business on earth.”

“You hear that from a Casper movie?” Connor raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe?” Evan looks slightly embarrassed.

Conor laughed. It took a second, but Evan did as well.

“What happened to your eye?” He asked, because he was dead and really didn’t see the point in being delicate.

“I did something stupid,” Evan stated.

“Yeah?” Connor promoted.

“I told Marcus Greenston to shut up,” Evan said.

“Damn,” Connor feigned an impressed tone. He didn’t spend a lot of time getting to know the people in his high school, but he’d been smart enough to figure out who to avoid.

“Yeah,” Evan sighed.

“You weren’t enough of a target already?” Connor joked.

“I guess not,” Evan shrugged. There was a slight smile on his face. “I’m just impressed I got the words out. That almost made it worth it.”

* * *

“Why do they pick on you?” Connor had been wanting to ask this for a while, but decided to wait for the bruise on Evan’s face to fade and for him to be in a lighter mood.

“You want the short list or the long?” Evan asked back.

“Funny,” Connor resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m being serious, Hansen.”

“I’m easy to knock down,” Evan stated. “Plus force of habit I guess.”

“Habit from when?” As far as Connor knew, Evan had always been the bottom of their school’s food chain. He wasn’t the only kid who got pushed around, but most were decent at avoiding it. That was why Connor never went home with black eyes.

“Seventh grade,” Evan stated.

“Shit.”

“On the bright side, it hasn’t been as bad as that in a long time,” Evan added.

“Someone punched you the other day,” Connor pointed out.

“They used to throw my shoes in the gutter,” Evan told him blandly. “I had to put locks on my backpack because people kept stealing my homework and dumping it in the hallway.”

“That’s fucked up,” Connor meant this.

“Yeah,” Evan shrugged.

“Why did it start?” Connor asked. “I mean, you’re not that abnormally odd."

“That’s redundant,” Evan informed him.

“Whatever,” Connor made a show of rolling his eyes.

“Someone started a rumor I was gay,” Evan told him.

“Oh.”

“I mean,” he smirked slightly. “It’s true and all, but I didn’t mean for them to know that.”

“Right,” Connor nodded.

“I’d only meant to come out to one person,” Evan told him.

“But someone over heard?” Connor assumed.

“I guess,” Evan shrugged.

“You guess?” Connor questioned.

“I’m good at knowing when I’m being watched,” Evan was looking at his hands. “No one could have been listening when I told him.”

“So your friend spread your secret to the entire homophobic school?” Connor summed up.

“I don’t know,” Evan said quickly. “He swore he didn’t but—”

He seemed to catch himself then, only now realizing that he was saying all of this out loud.

“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled. “It was a long time ago.”

“People are still giving you shit for it,” Connor pointed out.

“Well,” there was a hint of annoyance in his voice. “When you only have one friend you learn to brush things under the rug.”

“You’re very sad,” Connor let him know.

“Says the dead kid,” Evan retorted.

“Touché.”

* * *

“My family hasn’t moved on.” Connor had stopped questioning why he told Evan things alive him would have kept buried around the time he stopped wondering why on earth Evan returned to the tiny garden everyday.

“Did you think they would?” Evan asked. It was a fair question.

“Yes,” Connor didn’t know how to answer. “No. I have no fucking clue.”

Evan just nodded. They both knew he couldn’t understand, but he listened and didn’t judge.

“I hated my life,” Connor stated.

“Yeah,” Evan murmured.

“For no fucking reason,” Connor added. “Like I wanted to be happy, but I just couldn’t.”

“Did you ever get help?” Evan’s voice was louder than it had been a second ago, but it was still held a tentativeness.

“What do you mean?” Connor asked.

“Therapy,” Evan stated. “Meds, you know—help.”

“No,” Connor heard the lack of emotion in his own voice. “No I didn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

Connor was too. He was sorry for himself, he was sorry for the people he left to pick up the pieces, he was sorry that they had all done everything wrong.

“It doesn’t matter now,” he shook his head. “They’ll come to terms at some point. I will too.”

“Really?” Evan sounded more than dubious.

“I hope so,” Connor said honestly.

* * *

“Did you hang out here before I started haunting it?” Connor asked one afternoon.

“Kinda,” Evan shrugged. “It’s easier to breathe here than my apartment.”

“Your family stress you out?” Connor assumed. Evan knew the level of experience he had with that.

“No,” Evan shook his head. “Not at all. It’s just me and my mom actually.”

“Right,” Connor remembered what Evan had said to Zoe when he brought her here. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Evan wasn’t looking Connor in the eyes. “I love her, and she’s a great mother but— I actually think I stress her out. It’s easier to let her think I’m with friends than sitting around alone.”

“Did you do this before your father died?” Connor asked.

“I did when he left,” Evan sighed. “He’s a complicated subject.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor felt like he’d crossed some sort of line. “You don’t have to talk about this.”

“It’s okay,” Evan met his gaze now. He didn’t look upset, he looked numb. Connor knew that look. “It’s not a sore subject. I think we were happier with him, but it was so long ago I don’t know. Not that it really matters.”

“Are you happy now?” Connor asked.

“Not most of the time,” Evan said plainly.

“But occasionally?”

Something different came over Evan’s face. Connor didn’t understand it, but for a second he looked brighter.

“Right now I think I am.” Evan was smiling now. He was smiling because of Connor.

“Yeah,” Connor said before he could stop himself. “I think I might be too.”

* * *

Connor wasn’t sure what to call whatever was going on with Evan. He’d never been good at friendships, and it didn’t exactly make sense to get close to anyone when he didn’t have any life left. Yet, there wasn’t another way to explain each afternoon. He wanted to say he didn’t really care about Evan, that they just both happened to be stranded in the same place at the same time. It was hard to keep that mindset when Evan stumbled through the garden’s entrance with a jarring scrape across his face.

“What happened?” Connor’s voice came out too loud and too demanding, but he couldn’t control it. His body was shaking, he didn’t know if this was shock or fury.

“It’s nothing,” Evan’s attempt at a humored tone fell flat.

“That is not nothing.” As Connor got closer, he realized that the scrape wasn’t the extent of the injuries. Evan winced, but didn’t argue.

“There’s a first aid kit in my bag,” he let himself and his belongings drop to the ground. Connor swiftly opened the bag, knowing that Evan wasn’t going to help himself.

“Why would you have a first aid kit in your backpack?” He muttered as his fingers found a large bandaid and a small container of hydrogen peroxide.

“For exactly this,” Evan said bitterly.

“Okay, shut up” Connor’s eyes scanned the gash on Evan’s face again. He should probably start there. “I think I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s reassuring,” Evan quipped.

“I mean it, shut up.” Connor warned before gingerly cleaning the cut. He ignored the soft hiss Evan didn’t stop from escaping his lips. He tried not to see the defeat in the same eyes that had been bright the day before.

“Who was it?” Connor waited until he was done to ask this.

“It doesn’t matter,” Evan mumbled.

“It does to me,” Connor’s voice didn’t waver.

"You can’t do anything about it,” Evan reminded him. He didn’t seem upset that Connor was asking, Connor was pretty sure he was too exhausted to muster that.

“How many?” Connor asked.

“Three,” Evan uttered.

“Why?” It wasn’t just that people hated him. It wasn’t just that he was weak. Something happened this time, and for once Evan wasn’t talking to Connor. For once he wasn’t spilling details Connor probably shouldn’t be trusted with.

“I—” Evan’s knees were pressed to his chest. Connor had never seen someone look so small before.

“Yeah?” Connor prompted softly.

“I’ve been drawing you.”

“What?” Connor didn’t know how he was supposed to react to this.

“I draw sometimes when I need to do something that doesn’t mean thinking,” Evan stammered. Connor knew this, or at least he’d figured that was why Evan occasionally referred to a large sketch pad he kept in his school bag.

“You drew me?” There were better ways to form this question.

“I just,” Evan winced. “I draw things and people I see a lot. I didn’t mean it in a weird way, but I wanted to represent you, somehow. That does sound weird. I didn’t mean it like—”

“Okay,” Connor took a breath he honestly didn’t need. Tentatively, he placed his hand on Evan’s back. “It’s okay, you know? I don’t think it’s weird.”

“Thanks,” Evan’s eyes found his. He looked slightly relieved.

“But what does that have to do with what happened?” Connor asked slowly.

The relief vanished.

“Your sister saw it,” his voice wasn’t frantic anymore. It was almost collected. That worried Connor. “We've kinda been hanging out a bit. I didn’t tell you because, I don’t know, it felt weird. But she was kinda getting people off my back, then I had to drop my sketch book and—”

“And she freaked out?” Connor knew how she must have reacted. He knew how he would have reacted in her shoes.

“A little bit,” Evan nodded. “It’s not her fault, I don’t think she realized people were listening but…”

“But people like her,” Connor knew.

“And they don’t like me,” Evan murmured. “This gave them an excuse to mess with me and say it was because I hurt her.”

“I’m sorry.” Connor hated that all he could do was say that. For so long he’d thought he couldn’t get any more powerless, but if he’d been there—if he’d been alive—he could have done something.

“It’s not your fault,” Evan told him softly.

“I know.” But that didn’t make it any better. “Why come here?”

“Where else am I gonna go?” Evan laughed bitterly. “I can’t let my mom see this. She worries enough as is.”

Connor understood.

“You don’t have to answer,” he started. “But when you say you wanted to represent me, what does that mean?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Evan looked at him now. There was something more than pain in his eyes. “Don’t laugh, okay?”

“I won’t,” Connor promised.

“You make me feel less alone.”

Connor nodded. He didn’t make Evan talk anymore.

Evan slowly calmed down. Connor wished he could find the blank state he’d felt stuck in since he arrived here. Instead a thought he never let himself consider, twisted in his gut. It might have been Evan and how much it hurt that he couldn’t stop the world from wounding him, it might have been Zoe and all of the signs that they were the same she’d never shown, but the thought of leaving the garden was starting to scare him. The thought of moving on wasn’t as blissful as if once had felt.

He didn’t want regret. There was nothing he could do about it now.

“It’s unhealthy,” he heard his voice say.

“What?” Evan looked up at him.

“I used to live for other people,” he admitted.

“Like your sister?” Evan seemed to understand.

“And my mom,” Connor could remember that time.

“Do you wish you still did?” Evan asked. His voice held no expectations. Connor realize he had no idea why Evan was bringing this up.

“Zoe will be okay,” Connor still believed this. “My parents will figure something out, they have people who support them but…”

“But?”

“Maybe if I’d had friends, or felt supported, or didn’t make Zoe hate me—” Part of him didn’t want to be voicing this.

Letting the regret be heard made it real and not just a thought he could push down. But he didn’t want to feel it alone. He wanted Evan to help him, even though there wasn’t anything he could do .

“She doesn’t hate you,” Evan told him.

“She should.”

“You needed help,” Evan reminded him. “You didn’t get it. That’s not your fault.”

“I didn’t know what was wrong with me,” Connor said honestly. He wanted to now more than he had back then. He wanted too many things for someone who’d chosen an ending. "I would have lived for you.”

“You don’t mean that,” Evan didn’t say this dismissively. He said it like it hurt. Connor wasn’t sure if he wanted the words to be true.

“I think I do.” The regret was going to swallow him.

* * *

The next time there weren’t battle scars, but Connor knew how to read Evan’s expression. He wasn’t sure when he’d learned to or if he’d even wanted the knowledge, but deciphering that this kid wasn’t alright had become easier than untangling his own emotions.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Connor started, because he wasn’t going to push. Realizing he cared about Evan didn’t mean he was going to force his way into things that didn’t concern him.

“No.”

“Okay,” Connor nodded.

“At this point it’s just annoying.”

“It’s so much more than that.” Connor needed Evan to know how serious his pain was to him. Their situations had never been the same, but Connor knew how easy it could be for Evan to feel belittled. Evan just couldn’t see the damage it could do to him.

“No, it’s irritating,” Evan hissed. “It’s like people think were in the fucking 40s. The fact that I’m not straight isn’t a big deal.”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you swear,” Connor realized.

“Shut up,” Evan muttered, but Connor could hear the light seeping into his voice.

“I’m impressed,” Connor kept teasing from his voice.

“It’s a nice day,” Evan hummed.

“It is.” Connor stopped taking notice of the weather or the plants, but maybe if the garden was always calm and bright like this he’d enjoy his surroundings.

“It’s gonna start getting cold soon,” Evan remarked.

“Yeah.”

“What are you gonna do when winter comes?” Wonder mixed with concern in his voice.

“I don’t know,” Connor hadn’t thought that far ahead. “What are you gonna do? They lock they gate on snow days, right?”

“I can hop it,” Evan shrugged.

Connor felt himself grin.

“You kinda need a life, kid,” he laughed.

“Ditto,” Evan replied with a wide smirk.

“You have just lost the right to speak,” Connor crossed his arms, trying very hard not to laugh.

“Come on,” Evan nudged his shoulder.

“Nope, not listening.”

* * *

“I wish I met you before.” It was easier to say this than Connor thought it would be.

“You kinda did,” Evan reminded him.

“You know what I mean,” Connor replied. Vaguely recognizing him as that kid no one really liked was nothing near what they’d managed to build in the past few weeks.

“You realize whatever you’re feeling right now has nothing to do with me,” Evan didn’t sound upset.

“No—”

“Connor,” Evan gave him a knowingly look Connor didn’t understand. “You’ve had to think about what things mean. It didn’t matter who happened to see you.”

Connor wanted to tell him he was wrong, but maybe he wasn’t. Maybe Connor just needed a person to listen to him. Maybe it didn’t matter who it was.

“I’m glad it was you,” Connor voiced.

“I’m not.”

“Oh,” Connor felt something grow cold inside of him. “Well, if this isn’t—”

“I mean,” Evan quickly continued. “I wish you were really here, and my only friend wasn’t a ghost trapped in a garden.”

“Yeah. So do I,” Connor let out a chuckle that felt hollow. “I wish I was alive.”

It hurt to admit that.

He didn’t realize he was crying until a hand was wiping the tears from his cheek. He looked up to meet Evan’s worried eyes. Evan’s hand was still on Connor’s face. They were close. They were so incredibly close.

“I’m sorry,” Evan started. “I shouldn’t have said that, I didn’t—”

“No,” Connor cut him off. “You’re fine. Really. I’m just kinda a mess right now.”

Evan leaned closer. Connor could tell it wasn’t on purpose. He could see the exact moment that Evan noticed the intimacy of their position. He saw embarrassment, and a hint of regret.

Connor was so fucking sick of that emotion.

Before he could think, before he could stop himself, he closed the gap between them. Evan responded faster than he expected. His hands clumsily found Connor’s hips as he deepened the kiss. For one blissful moment, Connor’s mind went completely blank.

“This can’t happen,” Connor whispered when they broke away for air. “I’m dead, you can’t—”

“I don’t care,” Evan sounded like he was close to crying to. “Can we just pretend—for one fucking second—that we’re normal?”

“That’s the second time I’ve heard you swear,” Connor informed him.

“Shut up,” Evan’s mouth curved into a smile. It didn’t hide the pain.

“Okay,” Connor pushed their lips together again.

He could pretend. He could make up a reality in which someone—maybe Zoe—had stopped him. He could imagine his living self stumbling into Evan at school. Somehow they’d start talking. They’d understand each other. Connor could protect Evan from the world, and Evan could protect Connor from himself.

As Evan’s lips brushed against Connor’s skin. Connor wished that they had forever. He wished that they were kissing in one of their rooms, avoiding the eyes of siblings and parents, and not under a tree in his own personal prison.

What might have been minutes or hours later, Evan’s head was laying on Connor’s chest. Connor’s eyes were on the sky above them. He could feel Evan breathing. He could feel _himself_ breathing. It felt like a lie.

He drifted off listening to Evan’s heart beat and wishing that there was a second drumming to join it.

* * *

Connor was lying on a cold surface. For a second, he wanted to call this a dream, close his eyes, and wait to wake up in the garden again. But he could feel. His head hurt, and his eyes were foggy, and his throat ached from dehydration.

A jolt ran through him. He opened his eyes, he tried to force himself to sit up. His arms felt heavy—his entire body felt heavy. He was on his family’s bathroom floor. The shower was running. There was water all around him. Clutched in his right hand was his father’s knife. Everything was the way it had been seconds before he woke up in the garden.

But he wasn’t bleeding. He was alive.

* * *

Connor wasn’t sure how long he stayed in the bathroom. It felt like time didn’t exist within his thoughts anymore. Nothing made sense. He felt the way he had before he killed himself. He felt like he _hadn’t_ killed himself, but that couldn’t be right. He had weeks worth of memories, he had so many conversations with Evan still running through his brain.

Evan who he’d known nothing about before the garden. Evan who made him realize he wanted life again. Evan who had no reason to care about him.

Then there was Zoe, and everything he hadn’t wanted but must have needed to hear her say. That had to have been real.

He must have been in the bathroom for hours, because he found Zoe doing homework in her room. She looked surprised and a little bit annoyed when he opened the door.

“Can we talk?” His voice was quieter than he meant it to be.

“I’m really busy,” she said dismissively.

This was what they were. Without grief did she really have a reason to mend anything? Without him cutting himself off, she had nothing to reach for.

“Zoe.”

He sounded like he was about to cry. That wasn’t what he was going for. He wasn’t trying to come off so small, but maybe that was the only thing he could do. Part of her was still his sister, and maybe he was still her brother.

“I,” he took a breath. “I need you to help me.”

“Why are you soaked?” She seemed to only fully see him now.

“Oh,” he glanced down at his clothes. “I forgot to dry off, I had to think about stuff. That’s not important.”

“Connor,” she was giving him an odd look.

“You remember when we used to steal candy from Grandma’s pantry when Mom and Dad were too distracted?” Connor hadn’t until she’d reminisced the events in the garden. “I took the blame because I wanted to impress you. You were always the strong one, even though you’re younger. Not that that’s changed now.”

“Connor,” she stood up. “You’re freaking me out.”

“I’m sorry.” That was when his voice broke, giving way to the sob he must have been hiding since he woke up. He wasn’t sad, but he still wasn’t happy either. There were too many things tangled in his chest, and he couldn’t decipher all of it. He just knew that the regret wasn’t there, and that had to be a good thing.

“What’s going on?” Zoe’s voice was soft. He let her guide him to her bed, not stopping himself from collapsing into it.

“I need help,” he whispered.

“I don’t know what that means,” she was exasperated but not annoyed. This was what worry sounded like. This was what he must have sounded like every time Evan stumbled into the garden holding wounds.

“I don’t think I do either,” he admitted. “I’m not okay. And I don’t know how to talk to them about it.”

“It’s getting worse,” her voice was soft.

“It’s always been worse,” he said what he needed her to hear.

“Okay,” she murmured. Then she was nodding.

“What?”

“I’m the strong one,” a small, sad smile crossed her lips. “I’ll help you figure out what help means.”

“Thank you,” he meant this more than she’d ever know.

“But you should change into dry clothes first.”

Connor wasn’t sure what Zoe said to their parents that night. He knew she talked to them before dinner, he could tell by the looks on their faces as he forced himself to stomach his mother’s cooking. He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen after that. He wasn’t sure if his father noticed the missing knife or if his mother finally realized it wasn’t fair to search for the person he used to be when she looked at him.

It was foolish to think one conversation was going to solve everything. Still, when his mother came into his room later that night with a list of therapists she was going to start looking into and the suggestion that maybe he stay home from school and get some rest the next day, he felt a little bit lighter.

The next morning he wanted to stay in bed, but he knew that the more he gave into that the harder getting up was going to be. He did his homework. Focusing felt weird. For a while, he’d seen school work as pointless. His mind hadn’t exactly changed, but part of him knew it’d eventually get easier if he tried.

After that he went for a walk. When he left the house, he didn’t know where he was going. Maybe the fact that his body led him to the place he would never need to see again, proved that the past few weeks of memories weren’t his imagination.

The garden was exactly how it had been when he first woke up. It was eery how normal walking around it felt. This place had held power over him, but right now it was only a few trees and some withering flowers.

Connor’s train of thought was broken by a noise behind him. He turned to see the one person he should have expected (and in the back of his mind had hoped) to run into here.

“Sorry,” Evan looked mildly mortified. Connor gathered he hadn’t noticed him until a second ago. “I didn’t think anyone else was here. I’ll just—”

“Evan?” Connor didn’t mean to say the name out loud. He didn’t mean to sound that happy to see him either. Hearing that emotion in his voice felt foreign.

“I can go,” Evan stammered. “You look like you were thinking about something, not that I was watching you or—”

“No,” Connor blurted. “You can stay.”

“You know my name?” Evan was giving him an odd look.

“What?”

“You said my name a second ago,” Evan seemed to only register this now.

"We go to the same school,” Connor pretended that this was enough of an excuse.

“Yeah,” Evan nodded. “I’ve seen you.”

It was only now that Connor noticed how Evan was holding himself. He’d been running from something. That only made sense.

“Are you okay?” Connor asked before he could think better of the question.

“I’m cutting class to stand in the middle of a garden,” Evan said dryly. “I’m probably about as okay as you are.”

Connor laughed.

“It’s not that funny,” Evan muttered, but a smile was curling on his lips.

“I don’t have a good sense of humor,” Connor let him know.

“Right,” Evan looked at his hands. “Sorry, I—that sounded rude, I didn’t mean it to be—”

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” Connor knew the question seemed out of the blue.

“Really?”

“I could use the company,” Connor shrugged. “And apparently we're in the same boat.”

“Okay.” Evan still looked surprised, and a little weary, but that was alright. “Where do you want to go?”

“Somewhere far away from this fucking garden,”

This time Evan did laugh. In the back of his mind Connor wondered how the Evan who knew the full meaning behind these words would have reacted. He wouldn’t let himself dwell on that right now. He didn’t have the friend he made as a ghost, but maybe he could gain something else as his real, living self.

“Lead the way.” Evan smiled at him, and Connor didn’t stop himself from grinning back.

**Author's Note:**

> Initially I wrote this with original characters in an attempt to write something sort of like All My Hope but a lot shorter (which is why it's very au situation wise). Eventually I realized that I wasn't proud enough to submit it anywhere, but I didn't like the idea of it just sitting on my computer and not being read.
> 
> As always, if anyone wants to reach me, my Tumblr is @piperemerald


End file.
